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Phoenix II, wet

I've just arrived in Phoenix, Arizona, in the middle of the desert. There are sharp rocky mountains, eroded by the elements, all around. Great highways cross the dirt landscape. Everything is brown and dusty... and it is raining. Yes. Luckily I have packed my umbrella.

The hotel is "historic" which means built to immitate an old architectural style, and "luxurious" which means presumably that it's expensive. They have the inspired policy of charging you all the tips at once to create a "tipping free atmosphere". The tipping-free porters are called Bob and make confusiing conversation.

The US immigration people wanted to take a good look at my papers this time round, presumably because it's the second time I've been in the US under the US-Visit scheme (where you get photographed and fingerprinted) and so now I'm in their database. Go, Homeland Security! They kept asking if I was Greek, as it said all over my documents.